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Seventeen Days of Gold Chapter Two - Continued Elvis seemed pleasantly surprised when I called. We agreed to keep it casual; start out at the Dead Goat Saloon for burgers, and some of those fabulous drinks they were supposedly famous for, and move on from there. I chose my chocolate brown sweater and matching Italian suede knee-boots (hey, you've got to do a little shopping when you travel about), to go with my tight black jeans. I wasn't the skinniest snow-bunny in town, but I've come to learn over the years that despite what the supermodels portray, men still like to see some curves. There was no shame in a size eight. I like to call it voluptuous, it sounds sexier. I think Elvis agreed when he showed up, black satin shirt and all, earlier than expected, at my door. Thankfully, I was just putting the finishing touches on my hair, letting it out of the braid for the night. We chatted as he sat on the  edge of the bed, sorting through my compact discs that were scattered around. I had a little trouble finding the right music for my mood tonight. He asked to borrow my new  Journey CD, and I agreed as long as it wouldn't be gone for long! We headed down the elevator, and as soon as we got to the lobby I realized that I had forgotten my cell phone. I left Elvis to wait for me, and headed back to my room. Upon my return, I spotted him near the doors, talking to a cute little blonde. I rolled my eyes. "Figures." I said to myself. Putting on my best hip-swinging strut, I walked across the lobby toward him. He lost track of his conversation rather quick. The blonde shot me a wary smile as I sidled up to Elvis. Not always the friendliest to my female counterparts, I gave her a sideways glance. "You know, despite what you have heard, redheads are a lot more fun." I said to him, letting her hear. She glared at me and I smiled sweetly. Elvis raised his eyebrows. "So you say. But they've also got quite a temper." Said Apolo, appearing suddenly at the blonde's side, putting his arm around her shoulder. Caught off-guard, I blushed, but  quickly regained my cool. Apolo gave me a quick once-over, which prompted blondie to announce that she was ready to go. "So much for introductions." I said to Elvis as they walked away. I don't know who I felt  more sorry for, blondie or Apolo. I had a nice time with him, but I must say he was a bit dull. The language barrier got in  the way more than once that night. I had a couple of tasty Long Island iced teas, and let my mind wander as he told his oh-so-exciting story of growing up in Russia. Later, we eventually made it to Lumpy's, where I was a bit dismayed that tonight was not karaoke night. The evening might have been livelier if I could have talked Elvis into belting out "Hound Dog" or "Jailhouse Rock" just for shits and giggles. Oh well, I had myself a so-so tequila sunrise and danced a few songs with him before I spotted Jimmy. He was there as promised, looking fine in just a t-shirt and blue jeans, and I all  but ditched Elvis to get in a few dances with Mr. Shea. He certainly had all the moves,  and I thoroughly enjoyed the subtle touches he played along my waist and the occasional bumping of the hips. He grabbed my ass and pulled me against him, and I thought I would definitely be taking him home tonight, when Elvis reappeared on the dance floor. Rather than start another cold war, I apologized for my drunken forgetfulness and left Jimmy behind. Unfazed, he jumped back into the party and I made my early exit with Elvis. I tried to stay awake through the non-conversation in the taxi back to the hotel. It wasn't surprising that he was angry, since I behaved so poorly. I guess being out of the  dating scene made me a little too anxious to sample everything. I mumbled an apology at some point. Stumbling into the hotel ahead of him, I nearly knocked down the little blonde from earlier, who was leaving toward the taxi we just vacated. I gave a sweet smile and she turned up her nose and stomped away. Apolo and Shani watched  our brief altercation from the fireside couch in the lobby. "Bitch." I grumbled. Before I could turn around completely, Elvis had his hands about my waist, looking for his goodnight kiss. I obliged, putting my arms around him and giving him a long, slow kiss. Alcohol blocked my better judgment until I realized that this was giving him signals that I did not mean to give. He held me tighter, and I pushed away. He let go of  me, thankfully, but was rather angry and began to rant. Apolo and Shani stood up from their seats, as if ready to leap to my rescue. Don't worry boys, I can handle my own, I thought. I only half-listened to Elvis' complaints about dancing with Jimmy, blah,  blah, blah. This was getting a bit tiresome, and I really just wanted to go to bed. I sighed. "Get over it, Smirnoff." I said bluntly. He glared at me, turned quickly and stormed away to his first floor room. I sighed again, and looked at my feet. Why did it always have to be so complicated? I weaved my way to the elevators and punched the up arrow a little too hard, hurting myself. While I waited, I fished around in my purse for my key card. I swore aloud, as I dropped my bag, but before I could reach to pick it up, someone else had retrieved it and handed it to me. I glanced up to see that it was Apolo again, and snatched my purse out of his hands. "Why do you keep fucking doing that?" I slurred, not at all liking being surprised by him all the time. He and Shani both looked at me confused. "Sorry, won't happen again." Apolo replied, perplexed. I turned away without a word and stumbled through the open elevator doors, followed by the two speed skaters. Too tired to do it myself, I told Shani what floor number to hit for me. I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. I'm going to pay for this in the morning, I thought. Shani asked if I was going to be OK. Yeah, I've been worse than this, I told him. I pried myself off the wall and exited at my floor, almost thinking I heard Apolo bid me good night. I did not respond, and made my way back to my room,  alone. I pulled off my boots and flopped back on the bed, deciding that my jeans and sweater made good enough pajamas. The phone rang, scaring the crap out of me and I  picked it up only to hear some angry Russian words being spat out. I hung up and switched of the ringer. If the boss needed me, he'd just have to call the cell phone. I rolled over and quickly fell asleep. Scene Music: "Victim of Love" by The Eagles "Open Invitation" by Santana Copyright material TMS2002 Chapter 3 Return to Home Back to Chapter 2, pt. 1   page created with Webpage Designer (NS)